


Temperance

by ValNotThatVal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, game of thrones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anti-Sansa, Boatbaby (Game of Thrones), Crack, Daenerys isn’t mad, Magic, Missandei and Rhaegal will not die, Neither will Daenerys, OCs - Freeform, Pro-Daenerys, Resurrections, Some will only appear once, Tyrell uprising, many OCs - Freeform, mild food porn, pro-Arya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValNotThatVal/pseuds/ValNotThatVal
Summary: I feel like the world of GOT needed to be blessed with more Hot Pie. Also pursuing the idea of what happened to Melisandre’s necklace, which I am imbuing with powers not previously mentioned. Hot Pie is a pure soul who can wield such magic, and he will start having prophetic dreams as well. I’ve also decided he is a Targaryen loyalist. Enjoy!
Relationships: Daenerys Targaryen/Willas Tyrell, Hot Pie & Arya Stark & Gendry Waters, Hot Pie & Daenerys Targaryen, Hot Pie & Podrick Payne, Hot Pie & Qhono, Podrick Payne & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

“Mama, one more song, please,” Podrick murmured, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“Tomorrow, child,” Estella assured him, “I promise, I’ll sing to you at breakfast.” She knew it was a lie. Pod didn’t. He had just had his fourth name day a moon ago. He smiled as he drifted into easy dreams - a good child, always. He didn’t want much.

But Estella was tired. Living in this cottage that only reminded her of Pod’s father, she wanted to get out. Derek Payne had died in the Greyjoy Rebellion, only a squire, and everything in this place reminded her of him. His sparkling eyes, his broken promises. Their sweet child. She didn’t want to be Derek’s widow anymore.

The bard had promised her a new life, full of adventure and surprise. He dyed his hair blue, in the Tyroshi style, but his voice told her that he’d never travelled further than the Westerlands. He was waiting outside for her, to carry her away from this doomed, dark place. Ser Cedric would raise the child, she was certain. She would leave a note at his door as they made their way to the Reach and the Crownlands. 

Estella kissed Pod’s forehead. He always smiled in his sleep. She hoped he would stay that way. “Goodbye, Podrick,” she whispered, and turned quickly away. She wouldn’t make herself look back.

——-

Estella couldn’t stop coughing. She hadn’t slept for the past two nights. Not that her little Preston had noticed. He always fell into an easy sleep...like her Podrick. Now Preston was helping her load today’s pies and tarts onto her wagon, for the day’s route through Flea Bottom.

She hadn’t seen his father in months, but he had promised he would come back with plenty of gold and treasures before Preston’s fourth name day. Why had she believed him? Sweet children grew to be sour men. Every bite of food that went onto the table, Estella worked to get it. But she was tired, so tired. Her arms, her legs, her chest, everything ached. 

“Mama, drink your tea,” Preston urged, “it’s good for you. I put in extra honey!”

Estella sipped and smiled. Preston would be a baker’s apprentice one day. There was good coin in that, she hoped, people always had to eat. He didn’t really have an aptitude for anything else yet. “Go on now, child. I’ll be right behind you with the cart.” 

He was a blur in front of her as he marched out the door of their little cottage. “Hot pie! Get your hot pie! Made fresh and sweet every day! Hot pie! Hot pie....”

She pushed the cart a few inches and stopped to catch her breath. One more minute, she thought as she sank into a chair.

“Hot pie....hot pie....” Estella smiled wanly at the sound of his voice as she closed her eyes and let out her last rattling breath.


	2. CHAPTER ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Pie learns about the battle of the Long Night from his good friend Aberdall Strongbeard, who gives him an unusual gift.

CHAPTER ONE

“Hot Pie...Hot Pie!” Willow Heddle finally banged a wooden spoon against the nearest soup pot to get the cook’s attention.

Hot Pie jumped at the sound and turned. He had just finished dicing the onions, into almost perfect squares. “Oh!” he chuckled, “didn’t see you there, m’lady. How may I help you?”

“You need to go out and shovel the walk to the back door. The winds blew last night’s snow against it and we can’t open it.”

This used to be Ruger’s job, but he had headed north with Queen Daenerys Targaryen’s Dothraki army as they rode horseback up to Winterfell from Gulltown. So now it was Hot Pie’s job: he leaned his weight against the door and shoved as he swept out with the broom. The door gradually opened; he wasn’t as strong as Gendry, but he learned that his girth would make things move, eventually.

“Hot Pie!” laughed Aberdall Strongbeard as he approached. “Boy, you wouldn’t believe how glad I am to see you.”

“Good morrow, Strongbeard!” cheered Hot Pie when he saw his friend, “I see you’ve weathered the storm from the other night.”

“In a manner of speaking. Here, lemme help you with that.” One sweep of his thick arm and several feet of snow were cleared away. “Long Jeyne had you take over for Ruger, now did she?”

“It was Lady Willow. You seen Ruger on your way out of Winterfell?”

Strongbeard shook his head. “Last I saw him was before the Queen’s Dothraki rode into the darkness.” He put his hand onto Hot Pie’s shoulder. “You got plenty of those mutton and venison sausages?”

“Hundreds, the Dothraki loved them last they were here. Your favorite ale too.”

“I have a story for you, then.”

Hot Pie grinned at his friend. “I’ll fry up a plate right now, come in and warm yourself by the fire.”

——-

“....And the Queen said, ‘To Arya Stark, the hero of Winterfell!’” 

Hot Pie beamed with pride. “So Arry saved the world, she did!”

“That she did.” Strongbeard toasted with his tankard. “She weren’t even there to hear it.”

“That’s exactly the kind of stuff Arry don’t want to stand around to hear.”

Strongbeard reached into his satchel. “I got something for you, Hot Pie. A favor really. I don’t got any coin on me - “

“You don’t have to - “

He laid out a bundle on the table between them, wrapped in a red scarf. “Found this outside Winterfell the next morning, in the dirt. Didn’t look like it belonged to any of the ladies so I took it...I waited for someone to claim it, but no one did.” He unwrapped the bundle to reveal a woman’s necklace, some metal links with a dark stone in the center. “Could be worth something, you get a lot of traders come through here.”

Hot Pie’s eyes widened. “You want me to have it?”

“Aye, friend. Your food and ale are the best, better than me mum’s, and you always make sure I have a warm bed when I’m passing through. Keep it if you want, or sell it for whatever it’s worth.”

He picked up the necklace in his hands and turned it around to examine it. “I don’t know what a thing like this is worth.”

“Nor do I. Maybe Long Jeyne knows, eh?”

Hot Pie considered for a moment. The metal felt warm in his hands, as if it had been packed close to Strongbeard’s chest, or had been sitting on a loaf of fresh bread out of the oven. 

“Jon Snow and the Queen and her armies may be through here soon,” remarked Strongbeard. “Whatever is left of ‘em. We’ll be heading to Kings Landing.”

Hot Pie thought of the Dothraki commander he’d met a few times. “You seen Qhono, is he all right?”

Strongbeard frowned. “Which one’s Qhono?”

“One of the top men, he’s Dothraki he is, but when I met him, he was wearing heavy leather and furs.” Hot Pie smiled a little. “He said not all knights wear iron suits, and he gave me some dragon peppers to start growing. Said the queen likes ‘em with sausages and mead.”

“He sounds like a top man. But it’s as I said, most of the Dothraki are gone. Rode their horses into the darkness with their flaming blades, they did, one by one the flames were snuffed out. Only a handful came back with Ser Jorah Mormont and the direwolf Ghost.” Strongbeard swished his ale around in his mouth for a moment. “Sorry for your friend, Hot Pie.”

“It’s too bad about the Dothraki and Qhono,” Hot Pie said softly, still turning the necklace around in his calloused hands. “I wish they were alive to fight and ride some more. And their horses, I never seen so many horses. And their braids, Qhono said the braids are for all their victories. I wish they was still alive so they could tell the tales of what they saw, and braid their hair some more.”

The necklace felt even warmer in his hands. Did the stone glow a bit, or was it a trick of the fireplace nearby? Hot Pie sighed and studied Strongbeard across their table. “Thanks for the gift, friend. I’m glad you lived to bring it to me.”

“And thanks for that as well.” He clapped Hot Pie on the shoulder. “Do you have the same room for me tonight?”

“To be sure!” He brightened at that. “Upstairs, first door on the right. There’ll be duck eggs and blood pudding for breakfast.”

Hot Pie watched Strongbeard make his way across and up the stairs, then headed back into the kitchen to slice up some more of tonight’s roast for stew. He didn’t have a pocket large enough, so he clasped the warm necklace around his own throat to keep it from getting damaged.

The warmth from it tingled through his whole body, as if it was summer inside. His head buzzed as if he’d drank an entire barrel of ale himself. Hot Pie took a few breaths before picking up his knife, and noticed briefly that he couldn’t find or feel his usual callouses all along his fingers.

“Unhand me,” he could hear Brinna shout from the great room, “or you’ll be swallowing your teeth along with that wine!”

Hot Pie rushed out of the kitchen, knife in hand. Brinna, one of their serving girls, was arguing with an older man who had one hand gripped firmly around her arm, and the other tangled in her long black hair. “You let her go, this isn’t a brothel,” he warned.

The man saw the knife and released Brinna’s hair cautiously. “You gonna stick me through with that, fat boy?”

“Let her go and I won’t have to,” Hot Pie retorted, pointing the knife like a sword. 

The man eyed it and let go of Brinna, but then grabbed Hot Pie’s arm as though to tarry with him. Hot Pie remembered what Gendry taught him, and shoved as hard as he could.

It was as though the man had been kicked by a horse. He flew backwards across the room, overturned several tables, and collapsed to the floor. Where Hot Pie had shoved, the man was bleeding.

“Hot Pie,” whispered Brinna in awe, “what did you do to him?”

Hot Pie studied the blade of his knife; it was perfectly clean. But his face felt as if it was on fire. The man stared back at him in terror before his eyes closed, and the room seemed to take on a strange red glow.


	3. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

“But he was just looking out for me!” Brinna pleaded.

“He can’t beat up our patrons and throw ‘em around the great room!” Long Jeyne retorted. “What were you thinking, Hot Pie?”

He frowned and looked down at his shaky hands. “I guess, I mean I just wanted the man to let go of Brinna, he had her by the hair, he did. It was just a push, I guess I was stronger than I thought.”

“If you’re that strong, why’s it take you so long to sweep the walk?” Willow snapped.

Hot Pie sighed. The four of them were huddled together in the kitchen to sort out the situation; for a moment, the only sound was the bubbling of stew in one of his cauldrons. “I...I’m sorry, m’ladies.”

Long Jeyne paced. “We’ll get him into a room for the night, and tell him tomorrow he don’t have to pay. Didn’t look like he was cut too deep.”

“But it’s coming out of your pay, Hot Pie!” Willow added.

He nodded. He wouldn’t miss one day’s wages with what little he did for himself.

“Thank you, Hot Pie,” Brinna whispered to him. She gave his hand a squeeze.

“Maybe he won’t remember what happened,” Jeyne pondered, “he was drinking a good deal.”

“I hope he doesn’t remember,” Hot Pie added, absently touching the necklace. It was still fairly warm.

“What’s that you’re wearing?” Willow asked then, pointing at his neck. 

“Oh...oh, this? A friend gave it to me...as a gift.”

“That’s either a lady’s necklace or a dog collar. Either way you look ridiculous, take it off.”

“Yes, m’lady.” He reached back to undo the clasp, but his fingers still trembled and he couldn’t get hold of it. “I can’t - “

“Let me,” Brinna offered. She reached up but quickly recoiled. “Ow! It’s hot!”

“Of course it’s hot, he’s been in the kitchen over the fires all night,” said Willow.

“But I just - “ Hot Pie began.

Jeyne stomped her foot. “Enough! Let’s get the drunk old fool into a bed so we can all get some sleep.”

——-

Hot Pie had had nightmares before, but not like this. Fire and blood. The roars of dragons, the quiet sobs of beautiful women. 

He saw a battle at sea, krakens against dragons. Ships broken and sank, a lady stolen away as her lover cried her name from the beach. A dragon shot from the sky and crashed into the sea. “No matter how big they get, how terrifying to everyone else. They’re my children.”

“Perhaps our last chance to avoid carnage.”

The beautiful lady in chains, her last word is “Dracarys,” then her head is sliced from her body. 

The word echoes as the queen gazes out her window at the beach, her hair undone, the babe swelling her belly under her loose dress.

Fire and blood. Green fire and orange fire and red blood and boiling blood. The King in the North bends the knee as he lays in bed. He reaches for his blade. The queen cries when she is alone. The food smells too good and she is too hungry, the spider is dead so it must be safe. Dracarys.

Hot Pie awoke with a start, drenched in sweat. The room was glowing red.

——-


End file.
